On Earth as it is in Heaven

History

One of the easiest things to do, when the grades are in and classes over, is to let your language skills slip away. Sometimes this is simply an issue of time management, but at other times it is a matter of interest; I don’t keep studying because I do not have a professor to keep it engaging. Fortunately, books come along that do serve that purpose of renewing the interest of the mind with material that is new or appealing. Karen Jobes’s Discovering the Septuagint: A Guided Reader is just such a book.

To Protestants, the LXX often appears to be a curiosity (shedding light on Catholicism in some way) or an experiment in translation. I teach the Septuagint every Spring, and the reactions from students is fairly predictable. “Why is this so strange? I don’t understand these changes here.” And those are all from the English translations. What I have hope to do in the past, but been unable to do thus far, is bridge the gap between my students’ Greek classes and their Classical studies. Jobes’s book is perfect for this, and laid out in a manageable format, which can be used by students, teachers, or laymen alike.

While the book doesn’t get into too much apocryphal material aside from 73 verses from the “Additions to Esther,” the selected texts stand out as great examples of how the Hebrew and Greek inform one another, sometimes with stark differences between them. Because the book is more of a introductory language textbook, there are relatively few critical comments to slow down the chapters. Thus, what you have is a quick-paced study of the Greek Old Testament that can breathe life into dying Greek skills that have sat too long in disuse.

As stated in the front matter of the book: “if we are to better understand the New Testament and the world in which it was produced, then we must acknowledge the role of the Septuagint in how the Bible has come down through history to us,” (p. 12). If for other reason, this is a great starting point for truly digging deep into the LXX.

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I have read three previous entires in the Kregel Exegetical Library, and have come away edified by any of them. Each is written by a scholar of the highest integrity, and deals openly with problematic passages. A Commentary on Judges and Ruth does not disappoint. Dr. Robert Chisholm, a regular Biblical commentator for most folks who have taken a Hebrew class, handles some of the strangest passages in the Old Testament narrative in a clear, effective manner. If you are looking for a book that will help unravel some of the violence and bizarre events of Israel’s early days, then this is a good place to start.

A prime example comes from the section on Jephthah’s foolish vow (Judges 11:29-40). A number of explanations for understanding this passage have been explored over the years (Wikipedia even has a section dedicated to it), but consensus is rare. Chisholm dedicates 17 pages to the issue, and alternates being exposition in the main body of the text, and extensive footnotes about various views. Though Chisholm does not convince me of his own view, that Jephthah does in fact offer a human sacrifice to Yahweh, he is cautious in dismissing opposing perspectives and provides ample space for those views to be considered by the reader. This kind of writing is typical of the entire work, and made reading it an exercise in humility and conversation.

Of course, the extensive footnoting method used by Chisholm might be daunting to some, particularly the laity. But it is most definitely worth it to sift through those lengthy academic ramblings in order to find a beautiful gem of wisdom that adds to one’s understanding of the Biblical story.

It is also worth noting that Chisholm treats the book of Ruth as part of the story told in Judges, rather than a one shot episode of the coming kingdom through David. Chisholm is careful not to throw arbitrary labels at Ruth, chastising the myriad of scholars who has sought to impose their own perspective on the book, rather than letting it speak for itself. Though his treatment of the book is brief, Chisholm offers a balanced, reverent account of one of the most overlooked books in the Bible.

This has been my favorite of the Kregel Exegetical commentaries thus far, and has definitely whetted my appetite for more.

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It seems that every year, right around Easter, a host of arguments find traction in some bastion of so-called objective journalism where Jesus is suggested to be misrepresented, or sometimes even non-existent. As the usual attacks are lobbed, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed by what (on the surface) appear to be legitimate concerns. Enter 40 Questions About the Historical Jesus from C. Marvin Pate.

The book is a part of Kregel Academic’s line of apologetic survey works that take the form of 40 questions. I’ve previously reviewed their entry regarding creation, and commented on the benefits of this approach to such discussions. While these books cannot be exhaustive, they serve as excellent introductions to difficult material that is often weighed down with emotional appeals and mistrust on both sides. Pate’s foray into the quest for the historical Jesus is a welcome addition to the larger discussion and would serve as a great starting point for any Christian interested in the topic.

That being said, there are two particular points of, what I hope will be, constructive criticism. The first is a comparative element. In Kregel’s book regarding creation, there was a marked effort to be generous to differing viewpoints because it was a mostly “in house” debate. This book, however, is primarily a discussion between the orthodox and the heterodox, the believing and the non. As such, the tone should be different in some areas, at times calling for sharp rebuke and other times gentle correction. But it would appear to me that Benjamin Merkle, the series editor, would like the tone of each work to be the same. I think this is noble, but an ultimately ill-fated attempt to keep the conversation civil. If I hadn’t read a companion work to make the correlation, then I might not have even noticed, so take that for what it is.

The second issue is minor, but I think important still. The book has a wonderful set of indexes, which give guidance when something like The Gospel of Thomas specially comes up. But what happens when Bart Ehrman gets mentioned? Since so much of this topic is generated from 19th, 20th, and even 21st century scholars, an index dealing with such men and women would be not only appropriate, but perhaps essential for someone who is really trying to dig in to the subject.

These are small quibbles, and should not dissuade anyone from purchasing the book. It is a great resource for Christians of all stripes, regardless of age or denomination. I hope Kregel continues to put out great works like this.

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In his book, The Liberated Imagination: Thinking Christianly About the Arts, Leland Ryken asks a simple but provocative question: “Why do people hang paintings on walls?” There is of course the straightforward response: “because they enjoy said paintings.” But there is another level to the response worth considering, and its implications ripple out beyond the singular notion of picture hanging. Creative expressions have been how humanity thought and considered the reality around it for all recorded history. We don’t write or tell stories or sing just because we enjoy it; we also do these things because we must.

How does this fit into the Christian life? For starters, the Bible is chock full of stories, and not all them seem pristine on the surface. The Christian Scriptures affirm the idea that we are a people in need of creative expression, with complex heroes like Samson and theologically rich poetry like the Psalms. The Christian, then, engages with the artistic world every time he or she opens their Bible, and this exercise helps the believer interact with opposing worldviews as well. We read the literature of other cultures and eras, mining for gold or dropping lead lines into the water, always expecting to find something of value.

Though the Christian has much to reject in the worldview of the Ancient Greeks, there are also things worth a closer examination. Is there significance to Pandora’s perseveration of Hope that the Christian can understand? Do we weep with Helios when Phaethon is struck down due to his impudence and inexperience? Are we sometimes rattled by the idea that life is out of our control, like Achilles or Oedipus? The Greek myths are not only good stories (though they are that), for they contain in them a way of understanding the world that should and can be reckoned with by any thoughtful Christian.

As we head into Zeus’ Family Reunion at Trinitas this week, we consider the truth and beauty found in the archives of the Greek imagination. Join us as we try to explore these stories together. Perhaps there are still depths to be mined, still deep waters to be sounded. And when it is all said and done, you’ll have a new mosaic to hang on your wall.

Merrill reminded me that these books are more than mere history, serving as “a theological or ‘sacred’ history, recounting not only Israel’s past, but in a truncated sense a history of the world since Adam,” (pg. 22). And this is the lens that Merrill proposes to understand the book and its place in the Christian tradition. Merrill deals honestly and forthrightly with issues of chronology and source material, but offers a traditional, orthodox perspective that is edifying.

A highlight of the commentary, for me, was the “Theology” sections at the end of each chapter. After a thorough analysis of the Hebrew for a given portion, Merrill sets aside space to wrestle with the implications of such linguistics. It is these sections that helped the book to be more than a bland exegetical book on a standard historical work. Merrill ties everything together in these sections, making the exegesis practical and pertinent.

Still, the book is not as cumbersome as other commentaries. It’s 640 pages do justice to the topic at hand, and would serve and pastor or student of the Bible well when digging deep into the historical part of the Old Testament. Kregel has produced excellent commentaries in this Exegetical series, and Merrill’s contribution is no exception.

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Admitting I am a geek about certain things is a necessity up front. When given the opportunity, I thoroughly enjoy pouring over varying ancient religions, looking for comparisons with Christianity and deviations as well. So while the title may be off putting, excitement bubbled up in me like the waters of the deep when Ancient Near Eastern Themes in Biblical Theology arrived on my doorstep. The chance to expand my understanding of the Ancient Near East, particularly in light of religious texts and concepts? What is not to love?

I wasn’t overly familiar with Jeffrey Niehaus before this book, doing most of my exploring under the guides John Walton and Alexander Heidel. But I had encountered his name in a few articles and looked forward to his two cents on the matter. His book is laid out in a particular fashion, that I sometimes found distracting, unfortunately. His premise, however, I think is sound. Niehaus essentially asserts that most ANE religious texts follow a particular outline, as seen below (30):

His primary argument is that this process occurs in numerous ANE texts, including the Bible. In fact, he suggests that this is inherent in the entire Biblical narrative, and that the ANE texts illustrate a fallen example of how this concept played out in the pagan world (32, 177-181). With this in mind, Niehaus structures each chapter around a single concept (Chapter 2, “God and the Royal Shepherd”), and then unpacks how each of the major cultures explored this idea. Throughout, he maintains his thesis, and constantly reminds the reader how God was the real fulfillment of each part of the ANE process.

Undoubtedly, the material he covers is vast and informative, and I would recommend this book at every college student or pastor who is likely to encounter this material. Universities are filled with people who choose to focus on the similarities of the Bible with its ANE parallels, and consequently ignore the drastic ways in which the texts differ. Niehaus brings this concept to the forefront in an expert way. I do wonder if the text would be better suited to be broken out by culture, with a concluding chapter drawing everything together. Boyd Seevers’s Warfare in the Old Testament is put in such a format, and I found it easier to follow.

Despite this complaint, this book is worth the time. It is a short introduction to some of the major themes that scholars debate, and is handled in a gracious way. The book has earned a permanent spot on my shelf, and I suggest any interested readers do the same.

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The postmodern world is a confusing one. What are all these narratives people keep blathering on about? What does “power is knowledge” mean? For most folks, this flabbergasting effect creates a strain that results in doubt; doubt of all shapes and sizes and creeds. And for some, this leads to the past. How did people get on way back when? Its not a new question, although there may be a renewed interest in it of late. Enter John Michael Talbot’s The Ancient Path: Old Lessons from the Church Fathers for a New Life Today.

Talbot’s book is a biographical account of his journey towards Catholicism, primarily through is own study of the earliest Church Fathers like Cyprian and Tertullian. It is a winsome story, that treads many of the paths familiar to modern evangelicals. References to characters like Francis Schaffer and Talbot’s time at L’Abri brim with all the ecumenical flavor one should expect from such a book. After all its in the title: we need old lessons. This postmodern world needs an old faith. The aimless 60s and 70s gave us revolution…but unto what? Talbot asserts that it was in Church Fathers (and subsequently older Christian manifestations like Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism) that the solution to his angst was solved.

There are commendable aspects of Talbot’s book, but they are outweighed by the hackneyed concept. A story of how someone swam the Tiber? Been done (and then some). How many times can the same path be retread? In this regard, I’d even say the title is misleading. It is not a theological discourse on the Church Fathers, but rather a personal testimony about why you should get familiar with them. If one is looking a for a devotional book, or a study guide, you’d have to look elsewhere.

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Studying the Bible in Hebrew is not for the faint of heart. As a young man, I learned first-hand how having a working knowledge that allowed me to use a Hebrew Greek concordance could enhance my study of God’s Word. Of course, I also learned that I had just enough knowledge to be dangerous to others and myself. It is often easier to latch on to an obscure meaning of a Hebrew or Greek word in order to make some kind of argument that suits your own personal interpretation. I have had discussions regarding the word “σταυρός” in the Gospels, where my dialogue partner was adamant that the word always meant “pike or pole” and demonstrated how Christians frequently believed lies passed on through history (a largely irrelevant point, even if true). I have also been on the receiving end of teaching that said Psalm 100 makes explicit the command to lift your hands in praise, despite the word there (“תּוֹדָה”) rarely meaning “to lift your hands” and the word most likely not meaning that in this particular Psalm. These kinds of disagreements are common, and have taught me two things: the need for my own humility, and the need for wiser input. Enter Duane Garrett’s A Commentary on Exodus.

A Commentary on Exodus is a masterpiece of Scriptural study. Garrett teaches Old Testament Interpretation and Biblical Theology at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and his experience in both realms shows. The 130 page “Introduction” weaves history and textual criticism and theological debates into a coherent tapestry that illuminates the grand story of the Israelite people as they left the Egyptian kingdom. Garrett addresses the various “problems” with the text, and walks through the orthodox (and not so orthodox) ideas related to interpreting Exodus. He lands pretty clearly in the historically orthodox position, but he is cautious about asserting things that, in fact, are not known for certain. “In short, we have ample reason to believe that the biblical account is true, but we do not have sufficient evidence to specify the details of when it all happened and of what pharaoh was present,” (103). This kind of confident reticence is prevalent throughout the book, and is one of its charms.

The two portions of the commentary that were the most profitable in my reading were Part III and the Appendix.Part III, the longest section of the book, concentrated on the twelve miracles of the exodus, beginning with the transformation of Moses’ staff into a serpent and concluding with the death of Pharaoh’s army. Garrett’s break down of the twelve events into four categorical levels of intensity provided an insight I had not previously explored: the movement from warning to death. This is only one of the multiple highlights of Garrett’s exegetical prowess, and he continued to be just and astute in his concluding exploration of “The Songs of Exodus.” Though the Appendix is the shortest section of the book, Garrett’s thesis that these songs perhaps served as Israel’s earliest hymnody, as well as his pointing out sections I had not previously noticed to be poetic, prompts the reader for further study of this fascinating topic (722).

While the exegetical nature of this commentary might scare some laymen from picking it up, I believe that would do them a disservice. Garrett’s academic, yet winsome style makes this book accessible to a wide audience. The entire line of Kregel Exegetical Library books would be a welcome addition to any library, but this contribution on Exodus is a premier complement to the Biblical text. If I could only pick one commentary to have on the topic, it would be this one.

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I am as sure as I am of Christ’s reign that a comprehensive and centralized system of national education, separated from religion, as is now commonly proposed, will prove the most appalling enginery for the propagation of anti-Christian and atheistic unbelief, and of anti-social nihilistic ethics, individual, social and political, which this sin-rent world has ever seen. – A. A. Hodge, “The ‘Engine’ of Atheism,” Evangelical Theology 1890

Hodge was one of the leading theologians at Princeton near the end of the 19th century. In himself, he is worthy of study (and Mark Noll has some good stuff to say about him), but I’m interested in him for a different reason now. I don’t prognosticate like Dr. Hodge did, but I have to give him credit for being right.

Sarah and I just finished the IndoctriNation documentary, and I wanted to interact with it for a few moments before going to bed.

For those who don’t know, IndoctriNation is a Christian family’s journey around the country (mostly the Midwest and Eastern seaboard), to check out the state of affairs in public schools. The conclusion is fairly straight forward: public schools are a wreck, and for no reason should Christian families send their kids to one (nor should Christians work there). The film highlights that prominent Christian leaders like Franklin Graham will say we need to take the schools back, but a quick history lesson will show that they were never really “ours” in the sense that Graham means. According to Gunn and the people he interviews, Christianity and government-run schools are simply incompatible. He talks with people who worked in the government school system for years, until the Lord made it clear to them they had to leave.

The movie is worth it for the interviews alone. Seriously.

Now, for a couple of points of agreement.

1) I’m glad Gunn really pushed the Salt & Light mentality. I have family and friends who work in public schools, and I know they are attempting to serve Christ where they’re at, but I do wonder if they’ve ever really thought about what they’re doing. I know after the 6 months I worked in the government sector, I was in the wrong place. And it’s not that I don’t get it: education matters, therefore we shouldn’t abandon educating young people. I agree. But how can you be salt and light in a place that you are legally forbidden to spread your saltiness or shine your light? Jesus said,

You, beloved, are the salt of the earth. But if salt becomes bland and loses its saltiness, can anything make it salty again? No. It is useless. It is tossed out, thrown away, or trampled. And you, beloved, are the light of the world. A city built on a hilltop cannot be hidden. Similarly it would be silly to light a lamp and then hide it under a bowl. When someone lights a lamp, she puts it on a table or a desk or a chair, and the light illumines the entire house. You are like that illuminating light. Let your light shine everywhere you go, that you may illumine creation, so men and women everywhere may see your good actions, may see creation at its fullest, may see your devotion to Me, and may turn and praise your Father in heaven because of it, (Matthew 5:13-16, The Voice).

This is so important: you cannot be light in a place where you are made to snuff out the flame. I hear pastors and lay Christians of all types say it frequently, “We’re sending our kids so they can share the Gospel.” Unfortunately, that means you are sending them to do something (that requires training) to a place that tells them there is no God (where they will receive their training). I’ve written at length about this in my philosophy of education, so I won’t rehash it here. But I just don’t get it.

2) I was stoked that Gunn (and others like R.C. Sproul, Jr.) brought it back to Deuteronomy 6. This is one of my favorite passages of Scripture, and it is a conviction for me every day:

Listen, Israel! The Eternal is our True God—He alone. You should love Him, your True God, with all your heart and soul, with every ounce of your strength. Make the things I’m commanding you today part of who you are. Repeat them to your children. Talk about them when you’re sitting together in your home and when you’re walking together down the road. Make them the last thing you talk about before you go to bed and the first thing you talk about the next morning. Do whatever it takes to remember them: tie a reminder on your hand and bind a reminder on your forehead where you’ll see it all the time, such as on the doorpost where you cross the threshold or on the city gate, (Deuteronomy 6:4-9, The Voice).

Let it be the first and last thing, every day. That’s powerful, and only reinforces my belief that education belongs first in the home. Even if you don’t feel qualified to teach Chemistry, the Word of God should be so paramount in your thinking that your children don’t know any other way to see you other than through the lens of Scripture. Lord knows I do not accomplish this every day, but man, what an awesome responsibility.

Of course, the movie is not without some faults.

1) While I agree with so much of the film (I found myself saying, “This is what I’ve been saying for the last two years,” quite often much to my wife’s chagrin), I cannot get into the idea that evolution is inherently atheistic. Like any other tool it can be used in that manner (even the Bible can be used by atheists to “prove” God isn’t real), but evolution itself cannot be the starting point. Everyone starts here: god. Capitalize, make it plural, whatever; nothing changes the fact the most foundational belief for every person is what they believe about God.

2) I wish the film had gone on to critique Christian schools. I know, their purpose was fairly pointed, but I worry what will happen when Christians see this film, and then put their kids in a “Christian” school that does all the same things (minus the teaching of evolution of course). Think about it: is evolution really the issue? If Gunn is right and the current model of schooling is based on pagan philosophies which denied the existence of God, and saw humanity as cattle, then why would a Christian school do the same thing? I actually asked someone at ACSI that question, and they deflected the question, got mad at me and hung up without any salutation the first chance they got. I don’t really blame them (I know I can be a pain), but I genuinely don’t get why Christian schools would do the things identical to the public schools while telling parents to pull their kids out of public schools. That’s borderline lunacy if you ask me.

Overall, I cannot recommend the film enough. For the few grievances I might have with it, IndoctriNation is on the money. Christianity, when properly examined through the lens of Scripture in regards to education, is wholly incompatible with government-run education.

I know to many, that sounds like a radical or extremist point of view. Well, if I can count myself in the company of men like A.A. Hodge, men who fear God and love Jesus Christ, then I’ll take any label you want to put on me. Alarmist, included.

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But when he had considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” Now all this took place to fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet: “BEHOLD, THE VIRGIN SHALL BE WITH CHILD AND SHALL BEAR A SON, AND THEY SHALL CALL HIS NAME IMMANUEL,” which translated means, “GOD WITH US.” – Matthew 1:20-23

Names matter to God. As a Church History teacher, its often difficult for me to deal with the “Saul converts to Paul” type of theology. It’s hard for me to look past the simple facts: Saul and Paul are the same name in different languages. Same with Peter and Simon.

But the overwhelming testimony of the Bible is that God is quite interested in giving each of His children a new name. Abraham, Jacob, Gideon, John the Baptist… each of them were given a name specially chosen for them by God.

See, He knew them better than they knew themselves. Gideon was a wheat farmer, but God knew he could be a brave warrior. Jacob was a liar, but God knew Jacob would never quit striving with Him. It’s a powerful thing to see ourselves through the eyes of our Lord. It’s transforming. It’s liberating.

And its amazing to see how this plays out in the birth of His Son. God tells Joseph (you know, the guy having second thoughts about Mary because she’s pregnant and it ain’t his kid)… God tells this guy that Mary’s child is important. More than that: He’s a savior. And then God gives Joseph a special task: name Him. Why? Because our names matter to God. And He knows what our true names are.

Worthless? No, God calls you a Treasure (Deuteronomy 26:18). Broken? God calls you Healed (James 5:16). I could go on, but I won’t clutter this thought with more words.

Tonight, tomorrow, this week, dwell on this question: what does God call you? What is your true name, that only He knows?

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The only thing that has kept the race of men from the mad extremes of the convent and the pirate-galley, the night-club and the lethal chamber, has been mysticism — the belief that logic is misleading, and that things are not what they seem. - G.K. Chesterton